Sunset
by California smells funny
Summary: Spoilers up to and including Chapter 451. Kakashi and Iruka meet when the day is over, and difficult decisions are made. Light slash.


_Just a short fic written after reading Chapter 451. Feedback welcome!_

**Sunset**

They meet as the sun is falling, Kakashi dropping from one of the half-constructed buildings. Their very surroundings betray how much has happened, how much has changed, but not as clearly as the look in Kakashi's only visible eye as he comes closer. He looks older, worn out, strained, worse than Iruka has ever seen him. And that's saying a lot.

It only gets worse as Iruka moves forward, closing the distance with a decisive stride and a good measure of concern. The time and meeting-place, arranged subtly as they crossed paths earlier on, have been carefully chosen, out of view of everyone else as they stick together; fear has taken up residence at the centre of the new Konoha, and with night approaching, very few people are daring to stray from the pack.

So it is safe enough, once the distance between them is gone, for Iruka's hand to linger on Kakashi's masked cheek, before he pulls him into a tight embrace. He is used to a little resistance, at least, so ironically Kakashi's willing surrender disconcerts him. When he feels a sigh against his hair, heavy enough even to permeate the mask, and feels gloved hands draw him closer, his worry only increases. He was afraid for Naruto earlier on – it never occurred to him he should be more afraid for Kakashi.

When they let go, he is not sure what to say, and settles, with a sigh almost as heavy as Kakashi's, for "What a day."

"No kidding," Kakashi says, his voice horribly flat. When Iruka looks up at his expression, he is staring off at the embryonic village. Even with Yamato's best efforts, and those of the newly drafted workers, it's a shadow. The same goes for Kakashi's expression; the mischief in his eye is completely gone, and Iruka would be hard-pressed to find any hope there either.

They are silent for a while, until Kakashi speaks again. "They considered making me Hokage, for a while." He glances sideways, and sure enough, Iruka looks surprised. It's hardly common knowledge. Looking straight ahead again, he adds: "...I wish they had." _Then I could have made up for how things turned out with Sasuke. _He doesn't need to say it, not to Iruka at least. "I've got quite a job on my hands now," he says instead.

Iruka's heart sinks. He knew, he must have known, that Kakashi would go up against Danzou and try to redeem his former student, but it's still sickening to hear it. "You know," he says quietly, "I didn't even know you'd died until you were alive. I'd rather that didn't happen again." The last part was supposed to come out in 'teacher-voice', a weak attempt at a joke, but his heart really isn't in it.

Still it somehow raises a response, a half-choked single syllable of laughter, accompanied by a smile that's probably better for being hidden. "I was rather hoping to save you the trouble," Kakashi murmurs, and finally looks at him.

Now it is worse than when he was avoiding his eyes, because Iruka can see him, really see him. Over time he's become quite good at reading that one grey eye, and now the signs aren't good. Kakashi looks tired, immensely tired, and with a sickly feeling in the pit of his stomach, Iruka can count up all the strains that lie behind that look: a former student, now a missing ninja, who he could have saved on more than one occasion, including today, two other former students in pain, a village on the ropes, a master whose legacy he has failed by not being good enough to lead the village, a remarkably close encounter with death, and... this. Whatever 'this' is. They never did get round to attaching a name to it, just the description 'secret'. And while they're both used to secrets – spies and teachers are both party to a lot of them – ones like this are the hardest to keep.

When, after a long, long moment, Kakashi pulls his mask down, Iruka has a tiny flash of hope, until he realises that the hand responsible for that unveiling is shaking, just a little. Kakashi's gaze has not left his face, and Iruka is suddenly fighting not to let old barriers come up again. They are the ones that protected him when he was alone before, and they've been gone for some time, but now they're threatening to rise, and he is determined to hold them off, just for a little longer.

"I'll be gone a while," Kakashi says, his voice deceptively level. "I may not come back." That's a world-beater of a euphemism.

He holds the barriers down; the strain may well be showing on his face too, but it doesn't matter. He should have known this would come at some point, but right now that doesn't matter either. He can't focus on Kakashi's eye any more, so he looks at his mouth instead, the part only he is – has been – allowed to see. But no matter how much he wills it to stop, the lips keep moving and the sound continues.

"...Don't wait for me."

That's where it breaks, where there's no more pretending. That's the proof that one of Kakashi's secrets has to be cast off, and that the secret chosen is him. It takes him several moments to realise he is still staring at Kakashi's lips, no longer moving. It's not a good place to look, because what he wants to do is not appropriate any more, so he looks down at the ground instead, and swallows, and steps back. "Good luck then, Kakashi-sensei." He isn't looking, so he doesn't see the wince that follows, and then he is turning round, moving back towards everyone else, back to who he has always been.

He has only gone a couple of steps when a hand catches his sleeve and stops him, and before he can even look, lips press against his. But after just a few brief seconds, they are gone, and the sun has dropped below the horizon.


End file.
